


Blooms and Flowers

by KhadaVengean



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: But Not Much, Dimitri talking to ghosts?, F/M, Fluff, Ghosts, I have no idea, Married Couple, kinda angsty?, not really - Freeform, suprisingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23948674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhadaVengean/pseuds/KhadaVengean
Summary: Dimitri only knew the ghosts that haunted them.He never expected them to show this kind of warmth.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Jeralt Reus Eisner/My Unit | Byleth's Mother
Comments: 7
Kudos: 96





	Blooms and Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I've started to write this the same time as my other OS "Buds and Blooms", but I lost interest over time. So I tracked back to it and finished it. Not really sure what it is, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. 
> 
> I hope you stay safe during these turbulent time with Covid-19 and I hope I can make your day just a tiny bit better with this OS. 
> 
> English is not my first language. Please be aware of that.

It was never something that caught Dimitri off guard. Normally, he’d just enjoy the harmony that lay in the picture in front of his eye and be content with it.

But after he wedded Byleth Eisner and she took the crown next to him, being his and his partner in all times, he began to notice that something...strange lay in the scenery whenever his wife sat close to flowers. Outside in the gardens or fields in spring or winter, inside a vase or as a flower crown on her head, in full bloom or beginning to bud to their full beauty, it didn’t matter.

There was something about the picture that set him off – of course never in a bad way, but strange nonetheless. But since she didn’t seem to notice and nothing happened, he continued to gift her flowers whenever he found a bouquet or a single one that he found fitting for his love and just be content with the way her eyes lit up and the smile he loved so dearly bloomed on her face and she’d thank him with happiness and accept his gift, holding it close to her face.

* * *

The odd sensation became stronger when she announced that she was pregnant with their first child and the heir to the Throne of Fódlan.

He entered their chamber during the afternoon, holding a vase of various flowers in all different colors in his hands. Byleth sat in her favorite armchair, a book on her lap. She had her elbow propped against one of the arms, her fingers playing with some strands of her teal-colored hair and skipping the pages, her eyes inhaling the words like a sponge the water. She noticed him immediatly, her eyes shooting up and her eyes were filled with a look mixed between love and confusion. A smile set on her lips when she looked at the flowers he put right next to her on the small table and then back to him. “To what do I owe this honor?”

“The servants just finished preparing the palace for the new season coming to us. I’ve asked them if they could prepare a vase for you.

The corners of her lips were rising, but he had been married to her for over a year already – slowly, the small signs became more obvious. “You did?”

“I know how much you love flowers, beloved.” He kissed her on her forehead, watching fondly how she squeezed her eyes when his lips met her skin and looked back at the bouquet in the fine glass and pondered about the harmony of the colors, how they blended into such a beautiful picture.

She reached for the vase and took it gently into her hands, the petals nearly reaching her chin when she hovered above them. Her hair skimmed her shoulders like a curtain, being longer than before their wedding and a small smile spread on her face. It was only a simple gesture and if the sensation wouldn’t be coming back, Dimitri would come back to the questions that flew through his head whenever he saw her like that.

But his wife sitting in her armchair with the vase of flowers on her lap, over her back of ancient stories and legends of Faerghus, elected something strange inside of him.

As if someone was in the room. Not physically, but a presence hovering so close to them and yet so far. Not in reach, but it was there. Present.

But instead of a ghost, a voice whispering into his ear and speaking about the regrets and ill thoughts he carried ever since the day he saw too much fire for a fragile heart this young, it was a presence that brought him comfort. An incredible warmth lay in their chamber all of a sudden.

An embrace. A feeling of kindness and acceptance and love.

Byleth’s eyes shone as bright as the sun and the reflections of the beauty on her lap were showing in her orbs. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

He leaned forward and embraced her tightly. She snaked her arms around his torso.

He wished he would never have to let go.

* * *

The occurrence happened from time to time, the sensation altered. Sometimes, it was strong when he could actively feel the presence lingering close to his wife. Another times, he could recall that something was there, but not more.

On a day during the Garland Moon, when the people and children across the continent weaved the fallen petals to crowns to grace their heads, both king and queen decided to venture out into the heart of the capital, paying a visit to their people. With Dedue right behind them, they enjoyed the talks with the people – exchanging pleasantries and taking the chance to listen to their worries, about ideas.

The children were in love with his wife – many young girls gathered around her and one in particular stepped forward and held out a flower crown. She was maybe only seven or eight years old, but the sparkles in her eyes, admiration and a little bit shyness, made her brave.

His wife smiled and she kneed in front of the girl, the hem of her dress pooling around her when she lowered her head and accepted the child’s gift. Slowly, with trembling fingers, she set the crown on her head and it reminded him of the moment when she received the tiara of his late mother during the official welcome to the court.

No silver or jewels, nothing only the nobility would wear. A simple thing made of flowers and vines, gifts from the earth beneath them.

It was a crown from the people. A token of acceptance and a sign of happy cooperation.

The sight made his heart soar.

“These are peonies, your majesty.” The girl gulped, a blush appearing on her cheeks. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like and my mama told me that they’d look good on you. I hope you like them.” When Byleth opened her mouth, the girl’s face was filled with terror. “I’m sorry-”

His wife reached out her hands, her palms open and flat in front of the girl. Her friends waited with halted breath and all other adults looked at them expectantly.

The girl blinked a couple of times, grasping her hands slowly and gasped nearly unaudible when Byleth‘s fingers took hold of her small limb. “It is beautiful, thank you very much. May I know the name of such a skilled girl?”

The girl hiccuped once and he could hear the gasp of two people right behind him. When he turned his head, he thought it was her parents. “V-Violet Merfou, your majesty.”

“Then, little Miss Merfou, if I am ever in need of a flower crown, would you be so kind to lend me your service?”

Silence. Until little Violet nodded her head frantically, shaking their hands and replying with an enigmatic “Yes!”, all across the plaza, eliciting a small laugh out of him and the tension fell with her word.

The king looked at his wife, saw how the other children wished to give her their own bouquets, how her arms filled with a sea of colors and he could already see his wife standing in the grand hall of the palace and directing the servants about which flower was supposed to go where.

She’d do it with resistance, since she couldn’t do it by her own with the progressed state of her pregnancy.

When he opened his eye again, the scenery changed once more and Dimitri’s gaze sharpened when he looked at the queen. Her hair fell freely over her back, the flowers on her head catching the sunlight and her small laughter when one of the children told her something that made her curious.

It was peaceful. Content, tranquil. Serene. The presence right by Byleth’s side. Protecting her from harm.

The flowers glowed even brighter than before.

* * *

When their child and son was born, the frequency of the presence would change – it’d be there rarer, but stronger whenever Byleth was in a room filled with flowers with their dearest light on her lap or in her arms.

Right now, she held him in her arms, sleeping soundly in their bed with her hair falling over her arm to her chest, falling quietly on their son’s torso. Their boy, so small and so precious, kept his arms to his chest, his fingers wiggling slightly from time to time.

Dimitri watched them with his head propped on his hand, his elbow placed on the mattress. Love and a fuzzy feeling flooded through his chest, taking a hold on his heart like the wind and sweeping it away in an instant.

His son gurgled in his sleep, his fingers shooting up and Dimitri aimed to take this little hand into his own-

when the baby closed his small fist around the air and shook it a little bit back and forth.

Was there a giggle or did he imagine it?

Dimitri straightened, looked at his child, to the fist he made. There was an opening on the left side – as if he was grasping something.

_The baby cooed in his arms, shaking his arms back and forth and when Dimitri stared at the child, he held out-_

-a finger. It looked like his son was grasping on a finger.

Another giggle – it was there again. Did he imagine it or did something hex his chambers?

The king got up from his position, straightened himself up and looked around.

Nothing was there. Not a single soul and even the giggling ceased. Instead, only the light howl of the wind outside caught his attention and he directed his gaze to the moon and the stars in the dark night sky.

He lay down in bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting. Maybe it’d happen again and he could finally react.

He looked to the left, watching how his son lowered his hand and held it close to his chest again. He observed how Byleth’s green hair brushed their son’s torso.

Dimitri closed his eye and the feeling of warmth embraced him.

* * *

Dimitri didn’t consider himself to be a religious man. Even though he was married to the archbishop and he participated in the most important rites, he still caught himself having trouble believing that the goddess really existed. Even with Byleth’s hair and eyes, even with her power, he still couldn’t comprehend it.

The only times where he prayed and he poured the words right out of his heart was whenever he visited a grave. His father’s, Rodrigue’s and Glenn’s or when he payed a visit to Jeralt and Sitri Eisner. Their names were carved into the stone and he had often joined his wife when she stood in front of the stone, sometimes holding her hand or just offering her his shoulder when the pain became too much.

He placed the bouquet of flowers down and spoke another prayer: that these two kind souls would find peace wherever they went; a hope, that they found each other after years of being apart and that they watch closely over his wife and the mother of his child, protecting her from all the evil harm he wasn’t able to fight.

A gust of wind came up. A few strands of hair escaped from his ponytail and started to dangle in front of his eyes. He took a deep breath, rose from his position and turned around. From afar, he could already hear his son’s giggles and Byleth’s calming voice echoing through the monastery grounds. He should start his preparations to return back to Fhirdiad, wondering what his son thought of the monastery and how things would change over time.

A chuckle interrupted his thoughts. A light and breathy sound resonated through the area, through his head and reminded him of Byleth’s giggles when the prince started to shake on his wobbly legs, trying to take his first steps with him holding his hands. His green eyes that would stare around in curiosity until a laugh escaped him.

But it wasn’t his son’s laughter. It was something far away, but also present. Dimitri decided to turn around, looking at the grave of his late parents-in-law and he felt all the breath being cut short.

In front of the stone, in front of the flowers, he saw a woman. A silhouette, there, but not really. With long, green hair that reached her chest, a pink flower accenting the color with the same eyes as the woman he started to love and cherish. But instead of the strength of his wife, he saw a certain frailty.

“What...” All possible choices of words left his mind and his voice turned to a whisper. “Who are you?”

She kept her mouth closed, her eyes suddenly looking so incredibly sad and filled with deep grief. She titled her head.

He had a vague idea who was standing in front of him. Or didn’t, Dimitri didn’t even know. The king of Faerghus could only watch when she turned her head and looked at the bouquet he left Jeralt and Sitri-

A skip in his breath. An indescribable feeling flooded through his veins and his emotions were on a swirl. Was this-

“Papa!”

Something broke the silence around him and Dimitri looked over his shoulder and saw his son skipping down the steps, his blonde hair bouncing with every step. Something unfurled in his chest, a relief of impossible imagination forcing his heartbeat to a regular rhythm.

He let his shoulders slump which he had risen in tension and started coming towards his son, catching him mid-air and laughing when his little arms snaked around his neck and kicking his legs back and forth. He buried his nose in his son’s hair and only looked up when he heard the voice of his wife echo through the cemetery, his name a melody from her lips. “Dimitri, are you alright?”

She went the same way as their son, a pink rose tucked behind her ear and harmonizing with the light tone of her hair. “Is everything okay?” She looked at the grave of her parents over his shoulder, a sad look flickering in her eyes before she redirected her attention back to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Paying my respect to your parents. I hadn’t had the time to visit them, so I wished to make up on that.”

“I bet they are happy.” She skimmed her hand over her son’s back, catching a delighted sound from the little boy and a sigh escaped her lips. “I truly hope so.”

“Don’t worry, beloved.” He used his left arm to keep his son up, the other reached forward to take his wife’s hand in his own. “With you as their daughter, I can’t imagine them anything to be but proud.”

A pause. Silence. Then a smile. A real, tiny smile, which was the greatest treasure and satisfaction he could ever see. The rose in her hair shined brighter than the sun.

“Thank you, my love.” She intervened their fingers, her gaze lingering on the little boy around his neck. “Shall we?”

“After you.” With a playful roll of her eyes, the queen tugged her king with her and they left the cemetery in their back and the world in front of them.

* * *

One thing said goodbye.

_Thank you._

A whisper in the wind. A flicker of a rose petal.

The small smile of his beloved with a pink flower in her hair.


End file.
